It comes to an end, which is a start. (Patreon)

Now fully a tiger, his form melded seamlessly into the wilderness—a perfect piece of nature’s. His human life had reached its end, yet in the labored rhythm of his breath, a flicker of human consciousness remained. At first, denial clawed at him, then despair—until, in a surge of disgust, he scorned the powerless flesh he once bore. The very idea of humanity became alien, contemptible. With the very first growl, the lingering resistance shattered. The wild finally claimed him, and the beast roared, unburdened by memory or regret.